


pocket size joy

by Varesa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Author should be sleeping, Gen, Puppies, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 16:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Varesa/pseuds/Varesa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A puppy licks Dean's chin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pocket size joy

**Author's Note:**

> Fic for a friend! Prompt was: puppies. Yeah. It was either write fic for her, or deal with another friend's late-night philosophical debate.

Sam has a look on his face like someone just shot his puppy – which, considering recent events, wasn't too far off the mark. This case definitely made the top ten of the weirdest shit the brothers Winchester have had to deal with.

They'd gotten word that some Hellhounds may or may not have found a way to possess something living – not human, of course, but more dog-shaped. Which leads Dean to his current issue.

After they realized that, yes, the Hellhounds did, in fact, figure out how to possess a dog, the brothers – plus Castiel, 'cause he seemed to be sticking around this time – banished those flea-bitten fucks back to Hell. Dean was _not_ sorry to see them go.

Now, seven tiny, maybe two, two and a half month old golden retriever puppies were sitting on the floor of their hotel room, wide-eyed and shaking. Sam might have even had tears in his eyes.

 _Give me a break,_ Dean thinks, incredulous, when Sam scoops up the one nearest him, giving it a firm cuddle. The puppy is stiff for a long moment, then relaxes in Sam's arms. This seems to be the cue for the other puppies to start creeping closer to them.

One of them, a little one with a patch of white near its ear, paws at Dean's shoe. A weird warmth swarms his chest and he itches to kneel and hug it. Another one begins to gnaw on Cas' pant-leg.

Cas gently extracts the hem of his pants from the little guy's mouth and picks it up, settling it in his lap, stroking its ears. He murmurs something to it in a language Dean feels in his bones and the little guy licks Cas' hand. Cas smiles, just a little.

With a put upon sigh, Dean picks up the puppy on his foot and two of it's buddies, dropping down onto the queen bed, letting them crawl over him, sniffing and licking him in places that made him choke down a laugh, squirming to dislodge them. 

Sam's looking at him like he just gave his little brother the key's to the Playboy Mansion and even Cas is looking at him with deep affection. The left over puppies are trying to make a break for Dean's lunch and he doesn't have the heart to throw a pillow at them.

“We never – I repeat, _never_ – tell Bobby about this,” Dean says from beneath the puppy pile.

Cas' eyes are bright. “Of course not,” he promises.

A puppy licks Dean's chin.


End file.
